


The Dwarf Makes the Beard

by teaDragon



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bilbo Remains In Erebor, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bilbo struggling to adapt to his new role, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hobbit Courting, I promise, Light Angst, M/M, also mild petting, and innuendos, teen rating for shameless flirting, yes this IS bagginshield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 14:36:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4628940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaDragon/pseuds/teaDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having a private and introspective nature, Bilbo finds that being suddenly thrust into the political spotlight as the lone hobbit of Erebor is an awful lot to adjust to. The fact that he is courting the King doesn't help. Of <em>course</em> he'll stand proudly by Thorin no matter what happens, public scrutiny or no.</p><p>...But it would be nice if he could take a break every once in a while from being under constant social fire of supporters and naysayers and gossipers all at once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dwarf Makes the Beard

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little one-shot idea that popped into my head the other day. I promise this IS bagginshield, trust me on this. ;)

No one could say that Bilbo was anything but proud to stand beside his dwarves in the newly reclaimed Kingdom of Erebor. It had been a long, grueling journey followed by an equally long and grueling battle, and through it all Bilbo had done all that he could to see his friends safely home.

 

The hobbit had been granted the title of Dwarf Friend, and had eagerly accepted Thorin’s invitation to _please_ , stay as long as he wished. He was very happy to do so. However, even the favour of the king and his company was not enough for many dwarves to forgive so easily the theft of the Arkenstone. Nor the simple fact of his being a hobbit. Many were similarly dismayed over seeing the great King Thorin Oakenshield enter into a gentle courtship of both hobbit and dwarven traditions with said hobbit.

 

So while Bilbo was proud to stand beside his friends and now suitor, and willingly participated in council meetings on foreign diplomacy and agriculture, it wasn’t necessarily easy.

 

Bilbo Baggins could certainly hold his own against a bit of unfriendly gossip and slander. Hobbiton after all had its own fair share of that, and he had put up with it for years and years as a tween before he had become properly ‘Respectable’ in the eyes of the public. But back in the Shire he could have gone for a walk, or visited his Took cousins who were not quite so respectable themselves for some light company. Such was not the case in Erebor.

 

Even if there hadn’t been all number of rumors and gossip about his person flying around, he would have inevitably turned heads wherever he went, simply by being the lone hobbit of the lonely mountain. There were those who supported him, and those who did not, and those who were simply happy to share a good bit of gossip about the affairs of the royal family. And now that he had begun to court Thorin, many merchants and hopefuls had gotten the bright idea to win the future consort’s favour early on and hope to come to a position of power in such a way.

 

It did get a bit tiring with constant whispers and staring, folk pointing and gawking hallway after hallway, all through the marketplace and the fathomless chambers of the vast underground city. The more vocal of the lot would sometimes come up and proclaim their support or pass thinly veiled insults, which Bilbo would return with much practiced ease. Generally speaking, his mere presence alone could make quite a spectacle out of an ordinary scene, those dwarves who were undecided in their opinion of the hobbit or simply looking for gossip would come out to see what Bilbo would do, or how he would respond to the newest question or query thrown his way.

 

A spine of mithril he may have (or so the company had fondly told him), but a public person Bilbo most certainly was not, and such constant attentions on so private a nature could only withstand for so long before begging off. He had obligations now, so even if his dwarves would more than gladly give him all the time off he’d need, it was not quite the same. Sitting alone in his room was only so good, as even simply venturing down to the library or for a bit of walk would lead to the inevitable staring and gawking, or even his advice or presence suddenly being called for.

 

When it all got a bit much, Bilbo reasoned that he was sorely missing fresh air and soft earth underfoot to keep him leveled, and that surely being outside would raise his spirits in a flash. Dwarves as a rule weren’t to be found frolicking around in the fresh green of a new spring, and certainly not when there was a mountain at hand.

 

So Bilbo often found himself braving the rocky and occasionally treacherous paths of the mountain itself, finding little nooks he could take his lunch and watching the few wildflowers that had begun to peek their bright heads out of the earth stretching towards the sun. That was all fine and well, though he was spotted and hailed by the odd guard a few times and was almost certain a raven or two had been tailing his movements closely in case he should fall. 

 

These little excursions did help him when he simply needed some time alone without the constant social assault we was so often met with. And the sunlight did wonders for his sense of well-being, of course. Though sometimes it wasn’t exactly solitude he was seeking, but simply somewhere he wouldn’t be thrust into the center of unwanted attention.

 

Craving to be around others but not directly interact with them, Bilbo one day donned his ring and made his way around the mountain, happy to see the many vast caverns and halls of Erebor bustling with life, without being hailed or having suspicious looks cast his way. Well, that was the _idea_. 

 

Unfortunately, he had quite forgotten to take into account the larger bulk and weight of dwarves and their propensity for bustling about quite so vigorously while wearing heavy furs and steel-toed boots.

 

Many curses and bruises later, a frustrated Bilbo limped his way back to his room, favouring his poor, trampled left foot, ring still on his finger to preserve whatever dignity he had left. No dwarf had ever stepped on his feet before, most placing his furry toes in the same level of reverence many would place on their beards, so he could only come to the conclusion that he had avoided the dreadful experience because they could _see_ him coming. Perhaps if he was quick and careful and hung around the very edges of corridors he could go about invisible without unintentional harm to his person. But he would need to be careful to not get accidentally pushed off one of those wretched rail-less walkways that spanned across the many bottomless abysses Erebor seemed to favour so very much if he wished to go about invisible.

 

The hobbit’s appearance at dinner that night was met with much distress and outrage from the company, his whole left foot an angry black and blue, and his right only a little better off. Dwalin had demanded to know the name of the offender, Thorin immediately offering to have the dwarf apprehended and exiled for such an affront. Bilbo had waved them off, explaining it had been an accident and nothing more, and though there had been many a muttered curse and dark expression from the group they did eventually settle down. After setting Oin on him to nurse his abused feet, that is. And insisting he be carried back to his room after the meal--which was just as mortifying as it was touching, Bilbo was sure to tell them. Loudly. Several times.

 

After his feet had recovered Bilbo decided that maybe he simply needed to get away from dwarves for a time. As much as he loved his own, a whole mountain of them could be a bit much to deal with day in and out, and perhaps that would help sooth his spirit when it was dampened from too much unwanted social attention. So down to Dale he went, reasoning that there he could find the perfect mix of being acknowledged as a living creature that should in _no terms_ be stepped on, and as just another passing face of no great note.

 

Unfortunately, Bilbo Baggins was as much a hobbit in Dale as he was in Erebor. His reception was friendly, though he was mortified to find he was something of a hero to these people for the whole Arkenstone mess. Which was absolutely ridiculous and probably one of the last things he wanted to think about, _ever_ , but there it was. And of course, he was smaller than these unusually tall folk, and had to suffer through many an exclamation over his _cute_ form and finger pointed in his direction with extreme lack of discretion or tact.

 

Making his way back to the mountain, Bilbo chided himself ruefully, realizing that if he ever truly wanted to go without being gawked at, he should have either gone back to the Shire, or simply been born a dwarf. 

 

Xxx

 

It was early one afternoon that found Thorin heading back from a mine inspection to one of his unfortunately numerous council meetings. Walking briskly through the long, green-stoned halls, he idly wondered if he would have time to stop by the kitchens to grab a quick bite before the meeting. Or even better, he wondered if Bilbo had been baking again and would just happen to show up in the King’s quarters with a basket of treats and a pot of tea, smiling shyly as he made himself very much at home in Thorin’s den. 

 

It had happened many times before, and Thorin could say this was a part of hobbit courting that he was enjoying very, very much. Nothing could make his heart glow like watching Bilbo happily sip away at his tea, nestled comfortably in the too large armchair by the fire, handsome feet propped up on a cushion as he talked about this or that, gesturing animatedly with his cleaver hands.

 

He was brought from his thoughts of soft, curling hair and twinkling eyes by a low mutter. A dwarf was standing at the fork at the end of the passage, peering doubtfully down one way and then the other. Thorin felt a smile grace his lips, thoughts still lingering fondly on Bilbo.

 

“Are you lost?”

 

The dwarf turned, “Oh, yes, do you know where…” the dwarf trailed off, eyes widening when he got a proper look at Thorin. It was not unusual for a dwarf to be overcome with nerves upon meeting the now legendary Thorin II Oakenshield, Hero and King of Erebor, though Thorin hardly felt he was owed such praise and even reverence he was met with on occasion. “…the Lower Markets,” he continued, clearing his throat and dropping his voice a bit lower, no doubt trying to sound more impressive. “I cannot recall if they are left or right, your majesty.”

 

“This left passage will take you straight to the Lower Markets, my good dwarf,” Thorin replied, smiling reassuringly at the smaller fellow. Though all dwarves had some stone sense, somewhere as vast as Erebor could easily confuse those who were unfamiliar with it. The lingering stench of dragon was known to distort it in some, and though there was no shame in it many a dwarf would not be caught dead admitting to being lost underground. That this dwarf had done so was admirable, even if he had looked very embarrassed in doing so. “In fact, I am going that way myself. Would you care to join me?”

 

“Oh, I couldn’t! It is very kind of his majesty, but I am sure you have much more pressing matters to attend to.” There was something very comely about this dwarf, from his copper hair and short, slightly curling beard, to his bright eyes that peaked out from under his bangs. He wore a hat that reminded Thorin of Bofur’s own, and a quick glance showed the King that he wore scholar’s braids in his beard, alongside a courtship braid.

 

“Nonsense,” Thorin laid a gentle but firm grip on the dwarf’s arm and steered them down the passage. “We are going in the same direction. And it would give me a chance to get to know one of my subjects better.”

 

The dwarf smiled up at him shyly, even as he flushed. “His majesty is truly as kind as they say, though I cannot imagine any King could have the time to speak with all of his subjects.”

 

“Which is why I am taking advantage of this now. Tell me, what is your name?”

 

“Baldin, son of Buldin, at your service.”

 

“A fine name. I don’t believe I have had the pleasure of making your acquaintance before. Do you hail from the Iron Hills?”

 

“Rather the other direction,” Baldin replied with a wry grin. “Ered Luin would have been a better guess.”

 

“Indeed. Than have we lived so close for many years without ever meeting?”

 

The dwarf smiled up at him, eyes soft and almost teasing, “It would appear so, your majesty.”

 

“What a pity.”

 

“Indeed…though perhaps it is for the best. I fear I would have not made much of an impression had you met me earlier back west,” Thorin could hear mirth lurking in his voice.

 

“You are making a very fine impression now, Master Baldin. If I were to look poorly upon you then, it would have been caused by my own lack in judgment, and certainly no fault of your own.”

 

“Most kind of you, but I wouldn’t be so quick to be sure of a stranger,” he tapped his nose conspiringly and lowered his voice to a mock whisper. “Perhaps I had a shameful occupation and very little beard to speak of?”

 

“That’s no good excuse for being unduly rude.” Baldin laughed. It was a beautiful, soft sound that lit up the dwarf’s whole face. Thorin enjoyed the sound very much.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you! I only wish my suitor would take your advice. Perhaps if I told him the King said as much it may do some good in getting through to him.”

 

“Do you find your suitor to be rude to you?”

 

“Oh no, not at all! Only we met under rather unfortunate circumstances, and I’m afraid neither of us made the best first impressions. It took a long while before either of us could even be civil to the other.”

 

“I hope he’s not still causing you undue offense, Master Baldin.”

 

“Only when he has a mind to, and never with ill intent. I promise I am very happy indeed.”

 

“Good,” declared Thorin firmly, a smile coming over his features and staying as their hands brushed. They walked together in silence for a while, Thorin’s larger, heavier boots nearly drowning out the slight sound of Baldin’s footsteps. “Are you planning on staying in Erebor? It would be a shame to loose you.”

 

“Oh, staying! I may miss my home, but it’s more for the scenery and a few homey affects. I may have no real kin here, per se, but there are those here who have become much more than that to me that make staying very much worth while,” Baldin gave a fond smile, his eyes crinkling most becomingly, dancing with mischief. “And there’s my suitor as well. I don’t have the heart to leave him even if I wanted to. Not for good anyway, though I wouldn’t mind heading west for a time, just to visit every few years or so.” Thorin dragged his eyes heavily over the figure before him, drinking in his handsome form and smirking.

 

“If I were courting you, I’d not be too eager to have you out of my sight for such a long journey.”

 

Baldin’s eyes narrowed and he raised his head haughtily, “I’ll have you know I am most able to take care of myself, thank you,” he sniffed. “I did survive the battle, after all.

 

“Yes, with a figure like yours I’d imagine you’d be quick and agile. Most foes wouldn’t even see you coming before it was too late. Use a sword? Or maybe a dagger?”

 

“Sword, thank you, though a short one I’ll admit.”

 

“Perhaps we could spar sometime? It would be my pleasure to show you some techniques, and maybe have you try some larger swords than your own.”

 

“Oh I see, let me handle your sword, would you?”

 

Thorin grinned wolfishly, quickly reaching out and pulling the other into an alcove off the main hallway. “Mmm, I _would_ ,” he purred, relishing as the other shivered.

 

“I must say, I had heard that King Thorin was currently courting.”

 

“He is.”

 

“Well, then excuse _me_ , but I must also say that his majesty is acting awfully bold for someone who is so happily occupied, if the rumors are to be true.” 

 

“I could say the same, Master Baldin, as you have been flirting very prettily even with that courtship braid in your beard,” replied Thorin smugly, savoring the closeness of the smaller body in the small alcove.

 

“Oh good, I was begging to think you hadn’t noticed it was there.”

 

“Indeed. Whoever had the honour of braiding that for you is a very lucky dwarf.”

 

“He is, thank you. And what of the matter of your own suit?”

 

“What of it?”

 

“What would your intended say? If he were to see you flirting so shamelessly with any dwarf that comes along?”

 

“You tell me. But keep in mind that Master Baggins is very capable and clever. If he had a mind to, he could easily tell me _exactly_ what I’ve been up to in the past little while.” Baldin raised an eyebrow, eyes dancing. 

 

“Are you threatening me, your majesty? Or do you simply not care for the halfling’s feelings?”

 

“That’s _hobbit_ , he’s not half of anything. You’d know better than I who was being threatened, Master Baldin.”

 

“Indeed!” the dwarf smacked him lightly on the shoulder, smirking. “You’ve forgotten my own suitor.”

 

“Mmm, yes, we’d best not neglect that lucky bastard,” Thorin said, shamelessly running his hands up and down the other’s arms and back. Baldin did not seem to mind from how he not only lent into the touch but reciprocated most appreciatively.

 

“Were you not heading to somewhere of great importance? Or is feeling up any unsuspecting lost dwarf you come across a new duty of yours, O King?”

 

“Hardly. But I'll make an exception if that dwarf is _you_.”

 

“I see how it is,” Baldin gave a quick grin which Thorin returned eagerly. “As flattering as this is, I’m afraid _I_ have some matter of great importance to attend to concerning my suitor. Which is regrettable, for I am quite comfortable making your majesty’s acquaintance.”

 

“Your suitor is the jealous type, no doubt.”

 

“No doubt. He’s also horribly rude and loves to drive me to the point of desperation. It’s almost as if he enjoys seeing me beyond words.”

 

“I do hope he makes you desperate through more intimate means as well?”

 

“Oh he does, I can assure you.”

 

“Good,” Thorin growled, leaning forward to nose at his ear through the furry hat. “As King it is my duty to make sure my people are properly satisfied.”

 

“Quite so,” Baldin approved, licking his lips. “Now if you’d excuse me, I do intend to get to the Lower Market sometime today, royal distractions or no.”

 

“So you would abandon your king?”

 

“To his responsibilities? Of course!” He wagged a finger playfully at the King, “I have been looking forward to this little trip of mine for a while now, and I won’t have anyone spoil it for me, not even the King himself.”

 

“Are the Lower Markets really so enchanting?”

 

“Oh quite! It is a wonderful feeling, to simply take in the crowds, walk about and see all the different wares and faces, to be surrounded by people but not noticed by a single one. Ah, to be a dwarf in a mountain.”

 

“It would be a pity to pass a friend in the street and not have them notice you.”

 

Baldin hummed and clicked his tongue, eyes dancing, “Hasn’t happened yet to be honest. A friend is someone who _does_ spot you out of a crowd, even if they aren’t looking. And besides, it’s the crowd I’m going for. I’ll be meeting up with my dear suitor later.”

 

“Going to make his day, are you?”

 

“Make his evening rather, I’m meeting him tonight.” Thorin gave a low growl and ran a hand down the smaller male’s back.

 

“Lucky bastard he is, I’m sure you will. Anyone would be a fool to not enjoy your company.”

 

“Thank you, I do try,” Baldin gave a cheeky grin and detached from the King, sweeping into a low bow. “Your majesty,” Thorin caught his hand as he rose and placed a bristling kiss upon the back of it, not taking his eyes off the dwarf’s bright hazel ones as he did so. “It’s been a pleasure.”

 

“The pleasure was all mine, Master Baldin.”

 

And with one last sly smile the dwarf headed down the hallway, whistling a cheery tune and leaving the King to uncomfortably adjust his trousers as he watched the other walk away.

 

Xxx

 

The council meeting had run predictably late, and when Thorin finally made it back to his chambers he was tired, hungry and irritable. His mood lifted immediately upon opening his door and being met with the warm glow of firelight and a mouthwatering smell coming from further inside.

 

Grinning, Thorin quickly pulled off his heavy fur overcoat and crown, leaving them on a bench by the door and following the scent to its delectable source.

 

“Good evening, dear,” Bilbo greeted from where he was curled up in an armchair, reading a book in front of the fire. There was a spread of toasted bread with cheese and soup laid out for two, along with a tankard of ale and a pot of tea. Thorin groaned appreciatively and quickly made his way over to the hobbit, pulling him into a warm hug.

 

“Bilbo. This is a most welcome surprise,” he rumbled into his hobbit’s hair, nuzzling affectionately at his copper curls.

 

“I _did_ tell you I was coming tonight,” came the amused and somewhat muffled voice from Thorin’s chest.

 

“You did,” the dwarf heartily agreed, pulling back just enough to plant a firm kiss on the hobbit’s soft, smiling lips. “That was part of the pleasant surprise. You have most certainly have made my evening, dear hobbit.”

 

“Good,” Bilbo pecked the dwarf square on his large nose. “I hadn’t meant to run into you, but I’m very glad I did.”

 

Thorin ran a large thumb over Bilbo’s jaw, satisfied to find the skin smooth and unmarked, “I had worried you would have a rash.”

 

“Well, I’m quite happy to say I don’t.”

 

“Good. I’ll have to compliment Bofur on his fine craftsmanship.”

 

“The beard was all Bifur I’ll have you know,” Bilbo said, squirming out from Thorin’s arms and pushing the dwarf down into the armchair. He quickly climbed onto the dwarf's lap, humming happily as Thorin’s large arms came around him to hold him in place. “He specializes in fake hair. Uses it for dolls mostly, but he makes the most marvelous wigs as well.”

 

“Indeed,” the creases around Thorin’s eyes deepened as he regarded the smaller being fondly. “It was most convincing."

 

“The hat was from Bofur, if you couldn’t tell. He insisted it was the best thing to cover my ears.”

 

“I had a hunch. The boots as well?”

 

“Mmmhmm, they're just soft leather. I hoped it wasn’t too obvious, though I'd begun to think I had even fooled you.”

 

“Never,” Thorin swore, pressing a bristly kiss to Bilbo’s forehead. The hobbit narrowed his eyes playfully and jabbed a finger at the dwarf.

 

“You were a bit fooled! Admit it.”

 

“Perhaps at first. But I’d know you anywhere. And I’ve a feeling you were more than happy to give me hints.”

 

“Jolly good you did recognize me, else we’d really have a problem if you acted like that to every dwarf that caught your eye.”

 

“As I’ve said, the only dwarf I’ll be feeling up is _you_ ,” Thorin purred lowly into a pointed ear, large hands spreading wide to rub heavily at Bilbo’s soft tummy.

 

“So you have,” agreed Bilbo happily, nuzzling into Thorin’s neck. “Now, as comfortable as this is, I do believe we’ve a meal to have. I had to go to the Lower Markets just to get some of these ingredients you know, I’ll not have you spoiling it.”

 

“I would never dream of depriving a hobbit from their food, sanghivasha.”

 

“I should hope not! Now, be a dear and bring that table closer. I’ve waited all day to be in my favorite seat, and I’ll certainly not be moved from it now.” Thorin smiled as he leaned forward and gently pulled the table closer, taking great care not to disturb the spread nor jostle the warm hobbit snuggled close in his lap.

 

“You flatter me. Being a favorite seat is high praise indeed from a hobbit. But be warned, I’ve been told I can be unbearably rude and can drive one to desperation.”

 

“You’d best keep it to _intimate_ desperation then, thank you. Though considering the day you’ve had, perhaps it’s my turn to drive you desperate?”

 

“By all means, âzyungal, please _do_.”

 

"I rather thought I had earlier, leaving his majesty all alone in an abandoned hallway with quite the predicament."

 

"Do you know I had to sit through four miserable hours in the council chambers, listening to them drone on and on about a new vein of silver, with that predicament?"

 

"Oh _dear_ , I've been quite cruel, haven't I?" laughed Bilbo, giggling Thorin's expression. "Perhaps I should make it up to you?"

 

"Perhaps you should."

 

"It would be my pleasure, dear one."

**Author's Note:**

> [For the record, Baldin IS Bilbo, just with a fake beard and outfit. And Thorin only starts flirting after he realizes it's Bilbo.]
> 
> p.s. This is my very first time writing an intimate scene (with actual touching and kissing!) I've done flirting and teasing before, but not by an established couple! Yay, progress!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed :)
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://teaxdragon.tumblr.com/)


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